


From This Moment

by SylvieW



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Domestic, Fuck Deaton, M/M, Mentions of male lactation, Mpreg, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Pregnant Derek, Versatile Derek, bed sharing, discussions of abortion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 03:50:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6938494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvieW/pseuds/SylvieW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After discovering Derek is pregnant, Stiles offers to be his “Pregnancy Buddy.” On top of the usual difficulties of carrying a child, Stiles has to navigate Derek’s emotional turmoil from the traumatic event that conceived the baby, and his own feelings that he’s developing for Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From This Moment

**Author's Note:**

> The rape tag is NOT for Sterek.
> 
> This story alternates between fairly angsty and absurdly fluffy. I hope you don’t get whiplash.

Derek pushed himself up in the bed, trying to force the foggy feeling from his brain. Pieces of memory floated around his consciousness. He could see the lights of the club flashing, taste the sickly sweet drink he’d been offered. Sounds and colours blurred together, fading in and out. He felt the phantom itch of the heat that had spread over his body the night before, the intimate touch of the man he barely remembered staining like ink. 

Words came back to him, distorted and twisted together.

_\--know what you are--_

_\--own you--_

_\--be bound to me, this way--_

“Oh, good, you’re awake.”

Derek’s head spun as his eyes shot toward the door. He recognized the bland looking man from the night before. “What did you do?”

The man hummed sympathetically. “You’re probably still feeling groggy. That stuff can really pack a punch. Don’t worry, there won’t be any long term effects.” The man smirked. “Well, not from that.”

Derek’s confusion and uncertainty multiplied. “What does that mean?”

The man perched on the edge of the bed and explained what had happened and why in crystal clear detail. When he finished detailing exactly how he'd drugged Derek and why, he said, “Your instincts will take over, and you’ll do anything for me. Imagine how strong the three of us will be.”

The rest was garbled because Derek had slit his throat. 

Derek stared at the pool of blood growing on the floor. 

Derek pulled the blanket closer as he shivered. He needed to find his clothes so he could go home, but he couldn’t look away from the bright red glistening across the floor. He imagined wiping it away like it’d never existed.

Then he forced himself to leave the bed and make that illusion reality. 

***

Stiles sat on the counter in Deaton's back room, kicking the cupboards with his swinging feet and scrolling through his phone. Scott was supposed to be finished an hour ago, but he’d gotten distracted by a unique rash that Deaton wanted to show him. On a dog, not on Deaton. Stiles hated coming to Deaton's. He didn’t trust the fucker. But Scott had said they could hang out and Stiles wanted to spend as much time with him as possible before they were both busy with the adjustment to college life.

The front door of the office signaled someone's arrival and Deaton went out to greet them.

“Almost done, dude?” Stiles asked for the third time.

“Yeah, really close,” Scott said for the second.

Deaton returned with Isaac in tow. Scott’s face lit up at the sight of Isaac, and Stiles resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He wished they would just bone each other already. Scott was on a “break” with Allison again, so it wouldn’t be cheating. He thought Allison wouldn’t really mind either way.

Isaac shuffled uncomfortably and Scott looked at him with puppy concern. “Is everything okay?” He asked earnestly. Scott may have refused to be part of Derek’s pack, but he looked after Isaac like he was his beta instead of part of Derek’s trio.

“It’s probably nothing, I just…” Isaac hesitated and Scott put a hand on his shoulder in reassurance. “Derek’s been really weird lately.”

“Isn’t he always?” Scott joked. Isaac shook his head solemnly.

“This is different,” he insisted. “He’s been hurling like everyday.”

Scott frowned. “Like some kind of werewolf flu?”

Isaac shrugged. “It’s been happening for weeks. So, way longer than the flu. I didn’t think werewolves could get sick.”

They looked to Deaton, but he just smiled vaguely at them and didn’t offer any information. Fucker.

“That’s not all,” Isaac said. “He’s been really moody. Like, he either barely responds to anything or he flips out.”

“He’s never been known for his even temper,” Scott said. Stiles looked down at his hands, wrestling with his discomfort over Scott being so dismissive of Derek’s possible problem. But then, Stiles considered Derek a friend, where Scott only thought of him as an occasional ally, when it was convenient. They’d agreed to disagree long ago. 

“Not like this,” Isaac said firmly. “Every once in a while he makes a face or a noise like he's in pain but if we ask about it he gets upset and storms off.”

Scott still didn’t look convinced, but Stiles was starting to get worried. Persistent vomiting was odd enough, but adding pain to the mix was never a good sign.

"The other night, we ordered coconut curry and he freaked out over the smell and couldn't stop dry heaving until we aired the whole loft out," Isaac said.

Scott smiled reassuringly. "Well, that's understandable, since his nose is so strong."

Isaac shook his head. "Derek loves that stuff. He says he likes identifying all the different spices just from the smell. Like a game."

Scott frowned in concern, though Stiles still thought it was more over Isaac’s being distraught than anything to do with Derek. He turned his puppy eyes on Deaton.

“Has he been spending more time in his room?” Deaton asked.

“Yeah, a lot,” Isaac said, brow furrowed.

Deaton nodded, even though that made no sense to anyone else. “Has he borrowed any of your clothes recently? Or Erica and Boyd’s?”

Isaac shrugged. “Just a shirt or two.”

Deaton hummed. “Interesting”

Stiles, Isaac and Scott looked at each other, confused. They were kind of used to that though, because Deaton rarely gave them any more information than he considered strictly necessary, which wasn’t a lot. .

“So what does that mean?” Stiles asked him.

“It means he should come in right away. Scott, text him now. Tell him we need him here to discuss his pack urgently.”

Stiles sighed. At this rate, they were never going to leave the clinic and he should’ve stayed home. “You sure you want him to come all the way here under false pretences? Wouldn’t want to be the boy who cried wolf.” Unlike Scott, Stiles found that sharing honest information with Derek led to far fewer near death experiences for everyone. 

Isaac smiled at Stiles gratefully, but Scott didn’t even acknowledge him as he tapped away at his phone. Deaton remained passively bland. They didn’t have to wait long for Derek to get there. Deaton brought him into the back and he went straight for Isaac. “What’s wrong?”

Deaton was the one to reply. ”Nothing. We just wanted to bring you here.”

Derek glared. “Why?”

Deaton just looked back at him calmly. "You know why. Come sit down."

Derek looked upset, but he begrudgingly sat on the exam table. Deaton wheeled over a machine and instructed Derek to lift his shirt, before squirting clear goop on his stomach and sliding the wand against his skin. Everyone else stood frozen, still unsure of what the heck was happening.

“Ah, yes. Just there," Deaton said after a couple minutes, but everything looked like grey blobs to Stiles. "I'd say you’re about eight weeks along, but you probably already knew that."

Derek's jaw tightened, but he didn't say anything. He was looking straight ahead, avoiding the eyes of everyone in the room.

“Eight weeks along what?” Scott asks.

Deaton pointed to a blob on the screen. "Scott, what does this remind you of?"

Scott frowned at the screen for a moment. “The scans of breeding female dogs.”

Deaton smiled with flat indulgence. "It’s highly unlikely to come out in canine form, but yes."

Scott’s face drooped in confusion again. “But Derek’s a boy.”

Honestly, sometimes Stiles thought Scott and he hadn’t been living in the same universe, with all the crazy things they’d seen. Sure, males weren’t generally supposed to get pregnant. But, freaking werewolves. Anything could happen.

Deaton passed Derek a tissue for his stomach. “It's a very rare trait among werewolves, much like the ability to fully shift. It tends to remain dormant, but can be triggered by a loss of pack as a means of expanding quickly.” 

“Laura said there was no rush," Derek said quietly.

Deaton looked at him, narrowed eyes the only sign of emotion. “Yes, indeed.” 

“So, what now?” Isaac asked. 

Deaton donned a pair of gloves. “It's a fairly simple operation. Werewolf healing tends to fight off the traditional abortion method for this stage in the pregnancy, but we can simply cut the embryo out and that will be that.”

Stiles watched Derek's eyes widen and his body go tense as Deaton started ushering them from the room. No one else seemed to notice the protective hand that Derek laid over his stomach. 

"Whoa, whoa. Let's slow down a minute before we make any decisions," Stiles said as he stepped between them. Deaton looked at him disapprovingly, so Stiles turned his attention to Derek. He looked so lost that Stiles couldn't help himself. He reached forward and wrapped him in a hug. "It's okay. You're gonna be fine," he said quietly.

Stiles expected Derek to push him away, tell him off, growl out a threat. Instead, he gripped the fabric of Stiles’ shirt tightly and didn't let go.

Deaton cleared his throat. “Mr. Stilinski, this is a simple procedure--”

Stiles glared at him. “It's an _abortion_ , Deaton. It's not a decision to be made lightly. If he's only eight weeks pregnant, he has some time to think it through." Stiles focused back on Derek. "It's your call, okay? You can have the operation now, later, or never.”

Derek closed his eyes and shook his head. "Not today."

“Well, then. Let's go." Stiles tugged Derek to his feet. Deaton looked like he was about to object, so Stiles glared as hard as he could and guided Derek from the room as quickly as he could. He wanted Derek as far away from the trigger happy, information-withholding vet as possible. Derek let himself be steered out to the parking lot and Stiles hesitated between the camaro and the jeep. 

Isaac spoke behind them. "I can drive Derek's car home if you want."

"Is that okay, Derek?" Stiles asked and Derek just blinked at him, vacantly. Stiles thought he looked like his whole world was falling apart. Again. "Yeah, how about you give Isaac your keys and come hang out with me?"

Derek nodded absently and dug his keys from his pocket, tossing them to Isaac. Stiles led him over to the passenger seat of the jeep then hopped into the driver's side. He tapped the steering wheel nervously, another decision in front of him. "Should I drive you to the loft?" 

Derek looked over at where Isaac was hovering by the camaro and shook his head. The longer Derek looked, the more he seemed to tense away from the window, and his pack member.

“How about my house?” Stiles offered.

Derek nodded then stared down at his hands. Stiles drove in silence, because despite what most people thought, he was capable of it in the right situation. His dad wasn't home, so Stiles unlocked the front door and ushered Derek up to his bedroom. 

“Are you hungry? I'll grab us a snack.” He went back downstairs and looked for something that he hoped wouldn't upset Derek's stomach. He settled on two bananas, an apple, and a sleeve of crackers.

When he got back upstairs, Derek was passed out in a nest of blankets on the bed. Stiles sighed and sat down on his desk chair. He watched Derek's even breathing for a moment, wondering just how many curveballs one guy could be thrown in a lifetime. Then he turned to his computer to do what he did best.

***

Derek slept for two hours, which was more than enough time for Stiles to compile a good base of information on things to consider before having a baby.

When Derek blinked slowly awake, Stiles said, “Hi, sleepyhead. Hungry?” He gestured to the food from earlier, laid out on the nightstand. Derek grabbed a banana and sniffed it suspiciously before peeling it. Stiles rolled over on his chair, bringing the information he’d printed out with him. He propped his feet up on the bed while Derek ate. Derek managed to do it without sitting up, which he thought was pretty impressive, since Stiles probably would have choked if he’d tried it himself.

“How are you feeling?” Stiles asked. Derek shrugged. “I did some research, if you want to talk about it.” Derek nodded and sat up in his blanket nest with his back against the headboard. “Okay, so the average cost of having a baby and raising a child in California is--”

“Money isn't an issue,” Derek said frankly. “My family had good life insurance plans and Laura made smart investment choices.” Stiles tried not to think too much about why they’d thought they would need large policies. Being a werewolf must really suck sometimes.

“Oh. Okay. Well, that's doesn’t have to be part of the decision then.” Stiles shuffled through his papers. “I guess the main thing to consider is...Do you even want to raise a kid? Like, does the idea appeal to you?”

Derek crossed his arms over his stomach. “I want to have a family again.”

“Okay. So, is now a good time in your life to do that or do you want to wait?” Stiles asked carefully. “Because this doesn't have to be your only chance.” 

Derek looked down at his hands. He started to say something a few times but kept stopping himself. After a moment, he tensed and looked at the door. A second later, the Sheriff rapped on the door jamb and popped his head in.

“Hey kiddo--Oh, hello Derek,” the Sheriff said. After the Sheriff had been enlightened about the supernatural situation, he grew accustomed to Derek periodically appearing in their house. Stiles had come home once to Derek and his dad watching a baseball game together. They’d finished the game before Derek asked Stiles for his help with a translation.

Stiles considered keeping quiet and sending his dad off, but he felt like he was in a situation out of his depth. His dad might know how to help Derek with his decision better than Stiles did. So, he stated factually, without emotional intonation, “Derek is pregnant.”

His dad blinked at him. Then, in testimony to the strange things the Sheriff had dealt with in the past two years, he nodded like that made perfect sense and said, “Congratulations.”

Derek looked surprised to have the Sheriff respond as if the situation was a good thing. Like it hadn’t occurred to him that most people think pregnancy is a cause for celebration. “I...Um. Deaton doesn't think I should keep it,” Derek stuttered. 

The Sheriff hummed consideringly. “And what do you think?”

Derek clenched his hands in Stiles’ bed sheets. “I’m not sure I deserve to be a parent. What if I mess it all up?”

Stiles felt his heart crack from the vulnerability in Derek’s voice, and the raw grief on his face. The Sheriff sighed, like he felt Stiles’ pain. He sat next to Derek on the bed. “Derek, every parent worries they’re going to royally screw up their kid. Heck, I still worry about Stiles. All you can do is follow your instinct and try your best to give them the love they need and teach them how to get through life.” 

Derek nodded cautiously.

“As for what you deserve?” The Sheriff shook his head. “Son, in my line of work, I see people who’ve done a lot worse than you, and that hasn’t stopped some of them from having kids. It doesn’t matter what’s in your past. It's about what you do from this day forward.”

“I would--” Derek swallowed thickly. “I would try to be a good parent. I’d try to give them a good life.”

“Could you love them?” Stiles asked.

Derek placed his hand on his stomach hesitantly. “I think I already do.”

The Sheriff nodded. “That’s what Claudia said. As soon as she thought he might be there, before the doctors, the ultrasound, before she felt him move, she said she loved him.”

Stiles smiled. It was a bittersweet memory that he cherished. His mother telling him about her pregnancy and the joy she felt to carry him. 

“The pack will be going to school, so they won’t need me around as much,” Derek said, looking to them for reassurance.

“They’ll still need you,” Stiles said, looking pointedly at his father, since the Sheriff had lamented just yesterday about Sitles leaving him in the dust. “But I think you can manage them fine while looking after a baby.”

“You’ll be needing them too,” the Sheriff said. “They say it takes a village, right?”

Derek looked alarmed. “I don’t have a village.”

“Sure you do,” the Sheriff said. “You have your pack, and you’ll meet other parents as your kid gets older, and you have us, right, Stiles?”

Stiles nodded. “I’ll be your pregnancy buddy.”

“What?” Derek said flatly.

“You know, to go with you to prenatal visits, and help you get all the stuff and buy you ice cream at three in the morning, like a--” Stiles stopped himself. “Unless...maybe you want the other dad for that?”

“No.” Derek said forcefully.

The Sheriff stilled. “Derek?”

Derek looked between them. His eyes were getting wider and his face had gone pale. “He’s not--I didn’t know him. I didn’t want to. It’s not an issue anymore.”

The Sheriff raised an eyebrow. “Derek, you should at least let him know the child exists. If he doesn’t want to be in the kid's life, so be it but at least give him the choice.”

“If he’d given _me_ a choice, I wouldn’t be in this mess,” Derek muttered. 

“What?” Stiles said. He and his dad looked at each other as suspicion settled into his gut. 

The Sheriff put a comforting hand on Derek’s shoulder. “Derek, I’m not going to pry, but if someone forced you into something, you can come to the station. You know that, right? We’ll do everything we can to see justice done, just say the word.”

Derek’s eyes unfocused as he stared at the floor. “I kind of took care of that myself. I think it’s best you don’t know how.”

Considering that he was the County Sheriff, Stiles had always thought his father was surprisingly comfortable with the concept of skirting the law. So, he was unsurprised when his Dad nodded, and didn’t press for details. 

“Well, then. Being a single parent is a challenge, but you have plenty of support if you let your friends help you,” the Sheriff said diplomatically. 

Derek nodded. “There’s a lot to do to prepare.”

“I made a list,” Stiles said, waving the page triumphantly.

Derek gave a tentative smile. Stiles hoped this was a sign of the pregnancy turning into a positive experience for Derek. In the next moment, Derek’s face went white as a sheet. He leaped of the bed and reached Stiles’ wastebasket just in time to empty the banana into it.

“Well,” The Sheriff said, dropping his hands on his knees and standing to leave. “That’s my cue to leave. Have fun, boys.”

Stiles waved him off as Derek continued to retch. “So much fun,” Stiles muttered.

***

After Derek finished puking, Stiles got him some water and settled him back into bed. Derek was pretty grumpy about it, but Stiles took it in stride, teasing him a little as he tucked the blankets around him.

They talked about some of the details that Derek would need to consider, like housing, and childcare, but Derek still felt nauseous so Stiles didn’t push. Derek fell asleep again, so Stiles turned back to his computer. 

The first thing he did was reach out to his supernatural contacts. Two years of dealing with werewolves and other magical beings had lead Stiles to secure a fairly large network of people he could exchange information and resources with. It was one of the reasons why he had so little patience for Deaton’s information withholding. If perfect strangers halfway around the world were willing to help him out, why couldn’t their local druid? Emissary-shmemissary. The guy was a self-righteous prick. 

Stiles didn’t want Deaton anywhere near Derek and the baby, and he thought Derek would probably feel the same way after today's incident. So Stiles sent out feelers to see if there were any medical professionals or midwives within a reasonable distance that could take on a pregnant male alpha werewolf.

He looked over his shoulder at Derek’s sleeping form and muttered, “Still not the weirdest thing I’ve dealt with.”

***

Derek spent the night in Stiles’ bed, even though it was only a single mattress. Stiles offered to go sleep in the guest room, but Derek just raised an eyebrow and tugged Stiles into his blanket nest. Stiles woke up hot, sweaty, and covered in werewolf with the worst case of morning wood he’d had in years.

He struggled out of Derek’s python-esque grip and took a long shower. When he came back to the bedroom, Derek was munching on crackers while reading over Stiles’ to do list. 

“Anything jump out at you?” Stiles asked. “Something you wanna try and tackle today?”

Derek frowned down at the list. “Do you have time...I should probably talk to the pack.”

“Isaac was pretty worried. Is this a pack only thing or can your pregnancy buddy tag along?” Stiles asked, shooting gun fingers at Derek. 

Derek smirked. “If you’d like.”

“Cool. Just let me get dressed. You want anything else for breakfast?”

Derek didn’t reply, just gave a warning glare and took his crackers with him downstairs. He finished the box just as they reached the loft. Stiles laughed at how disappointed his face looked when he realized he’d eaten the last one.

“I’ll be sure to stock up on saltines for you, okay, big guy?”

Derek shoved him lightly before getting out of the Jeep. He’d texted the betas earlier, so Erica, Boyd, and Isaac were already waiting in the loft. They all looked on edge, but Isaac looked particularly guilty. 

“Isaac,” Derek said as he stalked into the kitchen. “Don’t ever talk about my personal business with Deaton again. Is that clear?”

“Yes, alpha,” Isaac said immediately.

“I know Scott is your friend, so I forgive you for going to him,” Derek said. “I know you’ve all been a bit concerned.”

Their tension ratcheted up a notch and Stiles was pretty sure at that moment that Isaac had told them what happened the day before. Derek found a bottle of water and some more crackers, then continued: “Obviously, this is private information that should not be shared with anyone outside the pack, but…” Derek rustled his crackers nervously. “I wanted you all to know...I’m--There’s going to be--” Derek looked over at Stiles, who gave him a bright smile and two thumbs up. Derek rolled his eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

The pack hesitated, like they weren’t sure how they were supposed to react, so Stiles nodded enthusiastically. “Yay, pack expansion!”

Isaac’s eyes widened. Boyd nodded stoically, and said, “Congrats.” 

Erica jolted herself out of her stupor and smiled slyly. “Oooh, can I plan your baby shower?”

“God, no,” Derek growled. 

Erica clapped excitedly and pranced over to the kitchen hugging Derek around the shoulders. “But Derek,” she whined. “We could have little games and tiny clothes and little pieces of pink or blue confetti.”

“No,” Derek grouched, but he didn’t push her off and Stiles could see a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He mentally added _Babyshower With Stupid Games and Confetti_ to his to do list. 

“So, why is Stiles here?” Isaac asked. 

Stiles huffed. After all the times he’d relinquished Scott to Isaac, Isaac was suspicious of him being at one freaking pack meeting?

“He offered to…” Derek said and waved a hand awkwardly.

“Pregnancy buddy,” Stiles said brightly. Isaac frowned and Stiles felt smug that he’d already secured the position.

“Offered his assistance in place of a second parent,” Derek said.

“Same diff,” Stiles said.

Isaac narrowed his eyes. “So, he’s not the baby's father?”

“What?” Stiles squeaked.

Derek flinched. “No. It’s my baby. Just mine. We're not talking about that.”

Erica backed away and Isaac shrugged. “Is this about that body we hid two months ago?” Isaac had inherited his father's graveyard. Originally, he’d planned to get rid of it, but he’d found he didn’t mind the work so much and it made for a handy spot to dispose of bodies after a fight. In fact, he was going to school in the fall to become a funeral director.

Derek glared at him. “I thought we decided to forget about that.”

“You decided,” Isaac said. “I’d still like to know whose body I helped hide.”

Derek started staring at the floor with the same vacant expression he’d had when the Sheriff asked about the baby’s father. Like he was looking at something no one else could see, a visual _Tell Tale Heart_. “He doesn’t matter. I won’t let him control me that way,” he said, voice distant. Stiles touched his arm and Derek jolted in surprise. He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. “It’s all blurred together.”

“Okay,” Stiles said calmly. “He’s gone now, so we can move forward, right? From here on out, all you need to focus on is your pack, your baby, and yourself.” He looked at the betas, silently begging them to drop the subject and move on. Isaac looked like he regretted pushing so far, his mood swinging from asshole to sad puppy in the blink of an eye.

Erica gasped. “I can teach you how to braid hair!”

Derek rolled his eyes. “You don’t know if it’ll be a girl, and I can braid just fine already.”

Erica pulled him over to the couch. “Prove it.” She pushed him down and sat between his legs, tossing her golden locks back pointedly.

Derek sighed and started manipulating the strands. Stiles sat next to them and he and Erica bounced through different things to be excited about. 

Isaac said he wouldn’t mind moving out so that Derek could have his room for the baby. Derek wasn’t sure if he wanted to stay in the loft or find a more child-friendly area, but Stiles and Erica just rattled off a list of gender neutral colours to paint the room. Silly stuff, that didn’t really matter in the long run. By the time Erica’s braid was finished, Derek was relaxed and glowing with hesitant excitement.

***

It took Stiles a week to track down a midwife _in the know_ and close enough to take Derek on, and he secured an appointment for the week after that. 

Derek spent 12 of those 14 nights sleeping in Stiles’ bed. It was a tight fit, but Derek’s morning sickness (afternoon, evening, and three in the goddamn morning sickness) was making him so miserable that Stiles didn’t have the heart to kick him out. He kept forcing Derek to eat actual food since he figured the baby needed more nutrients than crackers could provide. He wasn’t sure it helped much, since Derek just hurled most of it back up. Ah, the joy of new life.

Derek had agreed to see the midwife because he needed someone to deliver the baby and he didn’t want to go back to Deaton, but he was clearly apprehensive. It took an hour and a half to reach her office, and Stiles spent half the trip repeating her credentials. She’d been a midwife for over 30 years, and had delivered hundreds of healthy babies in that time. She’d worked with dozens of werewolf mothers, and two other male werewolves, one pregnancy with the first and three with the second. Her daughter was a surgeon, so in the event of an emergency, they could perform a C-section. She also wasn’t an enigmatic veterinarian/emissary who got off on hiding information. 

They checked in with the receptionist and she gave them a tree's worth of forms for Derek to fill out. 

“Why the hell does she need to know about my bowel movement?” Derek grumbled.

“Best to be thorough?” Stiles said easily. 

They turned in the forms to the receptionist and waited a few minutes before she told Derek he could follow her into the exam room. Derek stood immediately, but Stiles hesitated. He wanted to go in and hear every detail, but he didn’t want to intrude. Derek turned back and raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Do you want me to?” Stiles asked.

Derek glared. “Get in here, dumbass.”

“Aw, thanks dear,” Stiles said. “I’m so glad I get to be a part of your magical journey.”

Derek snorted, then booked it to over to the corner of the room, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall between the cheerful yellow curtains and the poster of a baby duck.

Stiles chuckled and Derek growled, “What?”

“It’s hard to lurk in a room filled with fluffy ducklings and floral print,” Stiles said. “Hey, are you sure the baby won’t come out furry? Oh! Maybe it’ll have your eyebrows. That would qualify as furry.”

Stiles sat on the nearby couch, teasing Derek until the midwife came in. He was still tense, but he didn’t immediately growl at her, so Stiles counted it as a win.

Moira Gladds was in her 50s or 60s, slightly rounded everywhere, with laugh lines around her eyes and grey in her hair. She greeted them both pleasantly and took a seat next to her desk. She didn’t ask Derek to join them, just launched in, asking questions about Derek’s medical history and lifestyle.

After they’d covered the absurd amount of pull ups Derek did and his usual diet, she asked, “Any nausea or vomiting?”

Derek greeted this with silence.

“Derek, that wasn’t a hard question,” Stiles said. Derek shuffled uneasily and pressed harder against the wall. Stiles sighed. “Yes to both. He’s nauseous most of the time and he can’t keep anything down besides crackers and water.”

Moira nodded, “That’s common. Hopefully that will calm down as you enter the second trimester, but you could be one of those lucky folks who get green gills the whole way through.” Derek huffed a bit and she pinned him with a no-nonsense stare. “Pregnancy doesn’t give a hoot about your werewolf healing. You’re gonna be achy, swollen, and uncomfortable just like the rest of us. Might as well tell me about it, so I can do my best to help.”

Derek nodded and avoided looking at her.

“Good,” Moira said. “We'll get you on some prenatal vitamins to make sure you're getting what you need. Any idea how far along you are?”

“Ten weeks,” Derek said.

“Is that for sure?” Moira asked. “Is there any other time you might have had sex--”

“No, that was it,” Derek said shortly. 

Moira made a note in the chart. “That puts you due around the end of February or beginning of March. Don’t get too hung up on that time frame, though. Babies come when they come.”

Derek shrugged, so Stiles said, “Aww, Derek, you could have a Valentine baby!”  
“No,” Derek said, pointing at him, as if banishing the very thought would ensure that didn’t happen.

Moira chuckled. “Have you considered your birth locations? The uniqueness of your situation tends to eliminate hospital births from the running. Would you prefer here or at home?”

“I...Um…” Derek stuttered. He growled a bit then looked to Stiles.

“We thought maybe it would be better to stay within Derek’s territory, so he can feel less threatened, but we’re concerned about complications during the birth,” Stiles explained, just like they’d talked about.

“I’ve spoken to my daughter and she said that since you’re a werewolf, she’s willing to perform a C-section here or somewhere in your territory,” Moira told them. “The question is if you want to plan on a C-section or attempt a natural birth.”

“Natural,” Derek said.

Stiles elaborated, “He wanted to try for natural, but we’re open to C-section the second a complication arises. We appreciate the offer of your daughter’s services. Does she need any assistance? We were thinking of asking my friend’s mom to be there as well, since she’s a nurse, and one of Derek’s pack mates is entering a nursing program in September.” Erica had been inspired by Melissa’s kind badassery and decided to follow in her footsteps. 

“As long as Derek is comfortable with them there, more hands are welcome,” Moira said. They talked a bit more about the birth and labour before she asked, “Are you planning on bottle or breast?”

“Wait, what?” Stiles said.

Derek growled at him. 

“Oh, come on,” Stiles said. “Gimme some slack, you never mentioned that was an option.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t sure if it was. I tried researching myself, but I kept getting mixed messages.” His gaze twitched to Moira, but he focused on the wall above her head. “Do you think I’ll have issues with...production?”

“Every person is different, every pregnancy is different,” she said easily. “Breast feeding has a lot of benefits beyond sustenance. It’s a wonderful way to bond with your baby. Even if you have to supplement with formula, I would highly recommend it, if you're willing to try.”

Derek nodded and Stiles tried not to picture what Derek would look like nursing. It should’ve seemed weird, but after the initial shock, Stiles thought it would be nice for Derek to feel so close to his baby.

“I think we can do a physical examination now,” Moira said. “Why don’t you come lie down on the exam table?”

Derek tensed and tried to take a step back but he was already against the wall. 

“Derek,” Stiles prodded. Derek shook his head and wrapped his arms around his abdomen protectively. Moira watched them patiently, and Stiles decided to try a different tactic. It was underhanded, but it was for Derek’s own good. He widened his eyes slightly and let his bottom lip pout, just enough to be effective without making it obvious. “ _Please,_ Derek. We came all this way.”

Derek growled under his breath and tried not to look at Stiles. It was too late though, the damage was done. Derek bit off a curse and marched over, grabbing Stiles’ wrist and pulling him over to the exam table to stand with him. Right next to him, in fact, pressing against the side of the table.

Moira smiled. “Lift up your shirt and lean back, please. Normally, we’d have you in a gown, but I think we’ll be fine if you just undo your belt and top button. I’m just going to feel your lower belly, alright?” Derek took his sweet time doing as she asked, but when he’d finished, she touched him gingerly. Derek flinched anyway, so Stiles took his hand, not complaining when Derek squeezed a bit too tight. It spoke volumes of Derek’s control that he didn’t break Stiles hand completely. Stiles had noticed in the past two weeks that Derek couldn’t stand anyone outside the pack touching him. Now that he knew what Derek had gone through, Stiles was honoured to be included in that small group.

“One of the sites I found said the fetus is the size of a [kumquat](https://wheresmystork.files.wordpress.com/2012/05/kumkwat-10g.jpg) by now,” Stiles said. 

Moira nodded encouragingly and Derek mumbled, “Fingers.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Fingers have formed and they’re starting to grow fingernails,” Stiles said. He’d signed Derek up for three different baby trackers so far, and the fruit-themed one was his favourite.

“Everything looks fine so far.” Moira said. “Any pain or discomfort you haven’t mentioned?”

Derek grumbled unintelligibly. 

“Isaac saw you flinching,” Stiles said. He'd seen Derek do it too but they hadn’t talked about it.

Derek hissed at him. Moira raised an eyebrow and he sighed. “I’ve been getting cramps. Back and stomach but they don’t last long.”

Moira smiled. “That’s perfectly normal. Your body will be rapidly changing in preparation. Just stay hydrated, and don’t push yourself. We’ll keep an eye on it just to be safe, but I don’t forsee any problems.”

Stiles felt Derek relax slightly against him, so he beamed at the midwife in hopes of showing enough gratitude for the both of them.

“Now for the fun part,” Moira said. “Do you want to hear the baby's heartbeat?”

“Really?” Stiles exclaimed.

At the same time Derek said, “I can already hear it.”

They looked at each other awkwardly. “Oh,” Stiles said, trying not to show his disappointment.

“We could--” Derek shrugged. “We could listen anyway.”

“Yeah?” Stiles said. Derek nodded.

“We’ll have you in soon for sonogram, but this will do for now,” Moira said as she wheeled over a small machine. Derek let her apply clear goo to his stomach, then slid the device across until they picked up the steady galloping thumps.

“Oh shit,” Stiles said. He closed his eyes and listened, completely awestruck. He’d known the baby was in there, but actually hearing it somehow made it real. Derek was carrying a _life_ inside him.

Derek squeezed his hand, so Stiles opened his eyes. Derek was smiling at him, his bunny teeth peeking out. 

“So cool,” Stiles said.

Instead of rolling his eyes or sniping at him, Derek nodded.

Moira switched off the machine and gave Derek a wet wipe and a clean hand towel for his stomach. Stiles couldn't help comparing it to the scratchy dry tissue Deaton had given Derek after the ultrasound, that shredded almost immediately when it was used to wipe away the freezing cold gel, leaving him worse off than when he’d started.

The two experiences couldn’t have been more different or Stiles more grateful for that.

The last thing Moira did before sending them on their way was hand them a business card. “This is a friend of mine. He’s a very good counselor, and his wife is a werewolf. Pregnancy can be difficult to navigate as it is, but I’m sensing some underlying issues. I think you’ll manage better with it, and with raising a child, if they’re addressed.”

Stiles took the card and thanked her. Derek didn’t object when he called the next day and made him his first appointment.

*** 

As Derek entered his second trimester, his morning sickness decreased, but the amount of time he spent with Stiles didn’t. He spent his nights almost exclusively at the Stilinski house. He still resisted either of them sleeping in the guest room, so they huddled together on Stiles’ childhood bed and woke up in a tangle of blankets and limbs.

The school semester started and Stiles worked out a carpool with Scott. They were both attending Beacon Hills Community College. Scott was taking their veterinary assistant program while he continued to work for Deaton part time. 

Everyone expected Stiles to go off to some impressive school like Lydia had. Berkeley, maybe, or even NYU. But he knew exactly how much money his dad made, and with the debt from his mother's medical bills still lingering over their heads, it wasn’t a lot. Scholarships could only stretch so far, especially when he wasn’t a star athlete in any sense of the word, and half his teachers didn’t like him. He was smart, and he'd worked hard to keep his grades up, but ADHD was still a bitch to deal with and not everyone considered his outspoken nature “good participation.”

Stiles had fallen into a career path without even realizing it was a possibility. In his years searching out information on supernatural creatures (and whatever his current ADHD fueled obsession was) he'd met people who were also in need of information. Turns out, some of these people would even pay you to do it for them.

Stiles had several authors--both in fiction and nonfiction--who contacted him on a regular basis, asking him to collate, verify and summarize information on various topics for them, in a friendlier, more reliable version of wikipedia. (Also, an eccentric old guy with cash to burn, whose hobby of choice was impressing his colleges with random facts and watching them try to figure out if they were true.)

So Stiles enrolled in first year anthropology, with the intention of minoring in folklore. Within the first three weeks, he discovered he already knew most of the information, so as long as he went to class, he didn’t have to spend much time actually studying.

He was currently whipping off an essay for one of his classes. It only needed to be 1000 words and it wasn’t due for a week, but he was nearly finished.

Derek was stretched out on his side in the bed, slowly flipping through the housing section of the _Beacon Hills Shopping News_. Stiles could hear him tapping against a page, then flipping to the next page, only to flip back and tap again. 

“See anything you like?” Stiles asked without looking up from the citation he was working on.

“What if--” Derek stopped. Stiles swiveled around in his desk chair to give Derek his full attention. “Do you think we could get my family’s property back?”

Stiles frowned. “I don’t know exactly how they seized it, but considering how much money you have to throw at them, I think we could manage it. Do you want to rebuild the house?”

Derek tapped the page he had open. It was a full page ad for a guy who did custom builds. “Maybe something smaller. Like, only five rooms instead of ten.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s sooo tiny.”

“Shut up,” Derek said, throwing the paper at him. Stiles laughed and picked out the page with the ad. 

“Hmm,” he said. “To the research!”

He closed his essay and delved into finding details on how someone was supposed to go about building a house, how long it took, and what they’d need to do to get Derek’s family home back.

The property back in Derek’s name was mostly paperwork. The building part would go much faster if they used a house kit instead of designing from scratch, and the guy whose ad Derek had found had a go-to source that he worked with and some good reviews of his work.

Stiles printed off the forms to get started and left them on the desk. “We can start this tomorrow.”

“Coming to bed?” Derek asked. 

Stiles stilled. “Yeah, sure, just give me a minute.” He left the bedroom and slipped into the washroom down the hall.

Stiles braced his arms against the sink and let his head hang down. He'd accepted the fact that he was bisexual years ago and having a crush on Derek was nothing new. He’d always felt he did an alright job of hiding it, but this just wasn’t fair. They spent so much time together and it was always so goddamn...domestic. Planning for the baby, looking at houses, bickering over what to have for dinner, and most of all, Derek in his bed _all the time._

The more plans they made, and baby supplies they bought, the more Stiles felt like this was _their_ baby. But it wasn’t his, and neither was Derek. The house would be built, the baby would come, and Derek would leave. Stiles would become one more person in the rotation of babysitters. 

Stiles sighed and turned on the sink to splash water on his face. Sharing this time with Derek was hard, and it would hurt like hell when it was over, but Stiles would take every second he could get.

***

On a mid-September afternoon, the pack came over to Stiles’ house, bearing pizza and chips. The Sheriff stole a slice of meat lover’s before heading off to his shift, leaving them lounging around the back porch.

The conversation flowed and ebbed, eventually turning to the baby, as it frequently did. Erica declared herself the baby’s favourite aunt, to which Isaac argued, “You’re the only aunt.”

“Exactly, and so Baby will love me best.” Erica was sitting next to Derek on the porch steps. After flicking her hair in Isaac’s direction, she leaned over towards Derek’s stomach, lips puckered.

Derek generally didn’t mind physical contact with his pack. They had frequent snuggle sessions that he claimed “improved their pack bond,” and “helped increase their control.” Stiles had recently started taking part in them, and he could vouch from them being very relaxing and hella comforting, even if he didn’t have the wolf instinct.

Accustomed as she was to Derek welcoming her affections, Erica was taken completely by surprise when Derek snapped at her, eyes blazing red and fangs dropped as he raise a clawed hand to ward her off.

Erica launched herself off the steps, scrambling backward, her own eyes blazing yellow in response. Her shoulders hunched and she averted her gaze as she cowered on the ground. Boyd and Isaac both jumped up, fingers clenching as they fought their own wolves to stay in control and determine the threat.

Derek sat frozen, his hand raised. He was staring down at Erica, but Stiles didn’t think he was actually _seeing_ her. 

“Derek?” Stiles inquired softly.

Derek clenched his hand into a fist, claws piercing his own palm as he lowered it slowly. “Don’t do that again,” he growled. 

“Okay, sure,” Erica said immediately.

“Do what?” Stiles asked.

“Stiles,” Isaac hissed.

Stiles shot him a quelling look and refocused on Derek. “We can’t avoid it if we don’t know exactly what it was,” he persisted. “Derek, what did Erica do to upset you?”

Derek shook his head.

Stiles waited a moment in silence, then asked, “Was it something to remind you of him?”

“No. It was the other--” Derek stopped, and rubbed his eyes. “It all blurs together.”

“Okay,” Stiles said. A fist of rage gathered in his stomach. He wanted to ask what blurred together, how many times someone had hurt Derek that way, but he couldn’t force the words out and he didn’t think they would really help. Not now. All Stiles could do was repair what had happened in this moment, and try to keep another one from happening. “Do you not want her to touch your stomach?”

Derek smoothed a hand over his abdomen. “No, she’s touched the baby before.”

“Maybe her mouth, then?” Stiles said, and Derek’s shoulders tensed.

“Yeah, don’t-- None of that,” Derek said.

“Okay. New rule: No kisses for Baby, prenatal,” Stiles said firmly. The betas nodded an affirmative, still looking shaken. Erica stood up slowly and went over to Boyd, tucking in against his side. Isaac shifted closer to them, laying a hand on her shoulder.

Stiles decided that if the betas needed the comfort of their pack, Derek probably did too.

“Hey, how about we go watch a movie?” Stiles said. He nudged Derek’s shoulder until he stood and ushered him into the livingroom, depositing him in the center of the couch. The betas filled in as he got Netflix up and running. He chose a movie quickly and sat on the couch beside Derek.

Derek immediately settled in next to him, pressing along his side. He was staring at the screen, not acknowledging the other occupants of the room. Stiles caught Isaac’s eye and jerked his head toward the other end of the couch. Isaac hesitated briefly, then claimed the seat. 

Their efforts were rewarded when Derek reached out and smoothed a hand over Isaac’s shoulder. Some of the tension bled from the room. Erica squeezed in between Isaac and Derek, sighing contentedly when Derek started running his fingers through her hair. Boyd sat on the floor, Erica’s leg over his shoulder, and Isaac’s foot in his lap.

Stiles barely paid attention to the movie. He was thinking of all the pitfalls and triggers they hadn’t found yet. Not all of them would be fixed with a puppy pile and a cartoon.

***

All the “Daddy” websites Stiles had been on said that pregnancies could be stressful, and it was important to be patient and calm with your partner.

The third time he fell out of bed in the middle of the night, calm and patience went out the window.

“Jesus Christ, Derek, we could barely fit when it was the two of us. Your baby bump keeps pushing me out, and it’s only going to get bigger from here,” Stiles said, pulling himself up on the floor. “This is ridiculous. There is a perfectly good guestroom across the hall.”

Derek glared down at him. “You said you’d stay with me.”

“Oh, for fucksake,” Stiles grumbled. “Get up.” He grabbed Derek’s wrist and pulled. Derek was much stronger than him, but he was still a bit sleep pliant, and wouldn’t want to hurt Stiles.

Stiles lead him into the guestroom and Stiles climbed onto the bed. “We can both sleep in here.”

“No,” Derek whined.

“Derek, it's 2 o’clock in the goddamn morning. Just get in the bed and we’ll figure something out tomorrow,” Stiles begged. 

Derek shook his head and stood next to the bed, shoulders hunched. “I don’t want to. I want to go back to your room.”

“So go back and sleep there and I’ll stay in here,” Stiles said.

“No, I want you to come with me,” Derek insisted.

Stiles shoved his face into the pillow and screamed. Once he was marginally more calm he asked, “Why?”

“This bed smells like Scott and strangers. I hate it. I want to sleep in your bed where it smells like you,” Derek said, words tumbling out as if against his will. Stiles looked at him, really looked, and realized Derek wasn’t just pissed off, he was really upset too.

Stiles sighed and levered himself up off the bed. He hauled off the blankets and pillows, leaving them in a heap on the floor. “Sit,” he said, maneuvering Derek onto the bed. He went back into his room and gathered up his own bedding and a couple T-shirts from the laundry for good measure. He carried the whole pile into the guestroom. Derek was sitting exactly as he’d left him, staring at the floor. Stiles dropped the bundle onto the bed and threw one of the T-shirts at Derek’s head. “There, nice and smelly. Can we go back to sleep now?”

Derek gave him a shaky smile and tugged him onto the bed. Stiles took one of the pillows and settled down while Derek arranged the blankets in a satisfactorily messy nest before curling up against Stiles’ back.

Stiles tried to get back to sleep, but Derek kept shifting and wiggling behind him. He looked at the ceiling and prayed for safety (because there was always a _small_ chance Derek would want to murder him,) then rolled over. He pushed Derek onto his side and wrapped around him, so that he was the big spoon and Derek was tucked into him. 

Derek stayed unnaturally still for a minute, then took Stiles’ hand and rested it on his growing abdomen. When Stiles didn’t move away, Derek relaxed into the hold. They still woke up pressed together, sweaty, and arms tingly from lack of circulation, but at least no one ended up on the floor. 

***

Stiles was extremely excited for Derek’s next appointment with Moira. He'd already been back to visit her twice, but this time they were getting an ultrasound. They would be able to find out the sex of the baby, as long as it cooperated with positioning. 

Stiles didn’t care if it was a boy or a girl, he just wanted to _know_. He wanted to know anything and everything, and this was the start. It wouldn’t just be “the baby,” it would be “Derek’s little _something_.” 

He also wanted to talk to Moira about Derek’s increasing possessiveness. They’d agreed to stay in the guestroom, but he wouldn’t go to bed without Stiles, even if he was clearly tired. He got agitated every time he smelled Scott on Stiles, and he’d started scent marking him all the time. On the flip side, if Stiles made him food or brought something home for him, he was thrilled beyond belief. Stiles had bought a cheap plastic flower from a fundraiser on campus and given it to him and Derek had smiled for hours. 

While Derek was in the bathroom, Stiles explained all this to Moira. She just nodded and smiled. “Oh, it's nothing to worry about. His hormones are messing with the wolf part of him, making him seek out a suitable mate. He feels that you're suitable and his wolf is responding accordingly.” 

Stiles’ jaw dropped. As much as he'd been acting in place of Derek’s significant other, it hadn’t occurred to him how that would affect Derek on an instinctual level. “Oh,” he said, and decided to ignore it completely.

Moira and Derek went through the appointment as usual, making sure everything was going smoothly. Finally she sent them over to the ultrasound technician, who refused to let anything slip. She said the baby looked healthy and the measurements were within the normal range.

They were sent back to the cozy exam room and Stiles paced around, jittery with excitement.

Moira walked into the room and grinned at them. “Ready?”

*** 

As soon as they were inside the loft, Derek shed the oversized coat they’d found to hide his baby bump. October in California really wasn’t that cold, but they didn’t want anyone asking questions and making connections. 

Erica rushed down the stairs like a catwalk model. Once the school year had started, the betas had unofficially taken over the loft in Derek’s absence. Even Scott spent more time here to visit Isaac. They perked up in the kitchen and Boyd lowered his mechanic textbook, while Erica said, “So?”

Derek smirked at them, and Stiles held out a black balloon. “First one to pop this wins a prize.”

Considering they were werewolves, in possession of claws, it shouldn’t have been that hard. But, Erica, Isaac, and Scott were insanely competitive and spent more time tackling each other than they did swiping at the balloon. Boyd shook his head and went back to his studying. 

Derek got a popsicle from the kitchen and went at it while he watched them. He’d been craving them a lot recently, and it was driving Stiles insane. It was stupidly cliche, but seeing Derek lick and suck at the ice was a sight to behold, and he preferred the strawberry flavour, so his mouth always looked red and bitable when he was finished. So Derek watched the betas and Stiles watched Derek.

The betas found themselves in a heap in front of Boyd, the balloon batted over head, so Boyd leaned forward and popped a claw into the rubber. Pink glitter exploded over the other three.

“What the hell, Stiles?” Scott said, futilely rubbing at his hair. 

Erica squealed in delight, “Really? Ohmygodohmygod!”

“What?” Scott said, dumbly.

Erica shoved him off and raced into the kitchen to launch herself at Derek.

Isaac smiled. “A girl?”

Stiles grinned. “We are halfway to meeting Baby Girl Hale.”

“Petunia,” Erica said. “You should name her Petunia.”

“God, no,” Derek said, shoving her away.

“Bella?” Scott suggested.

“Gladys?” Isaac said with a cheeky grin.

They continued offering various ridiculous names, up to and including Her Royal Majesty. 

“Hey,” Boyd said. “What’s my prize?”

Stiles shrugged. “Nothing, it just sounded more dramatic.”

Erica gave an outraged squawk before she and Scott tackled him. 

***

Having Derek see a therapist had helped a lot. He didn’t zone out as frequently, and some of his anxieties around him deserving to be a parent had been put to rest. For the most part, he could just be excited about the new life inside him.

Sometimes though, pregnancy was a bitch and Derek got grumpy, irritable, and moody.

Now was one of those times. Derek grunted in annoyance as he tried to find a shirt to wear, while Stiles ignored him, in favour of looking through stroller reviews online. “How about this one? It has a good safety rating and the reviewers say it can fit through most doors, unlike the last one. It’s lightweight, and it should fold up enough to fit in the Camaro.”

“Nothing fits in the Camaro. I don’t fit in it.” Derek tossed the shirt he was trying to put on across the room with an aggravated growl. “Nothing fits. I’m fat and disgusting, and I’m so fucking horny. All the time.”

Stiles should have been paying more attention. If he had been, he might have been able to stop his brain from telling his mouth to say, “I could help you with that.” He tensed as soon as he realized what he’d said. He swiveled in his chair slowly, and Derek was staring at him wide eyed. 

“What--” Derek’s tongue darted out to lick his lips nervously. “What do you mean?”

Stiles braced himself. If he backed down, Derek might think he was right in believing he wasn’t attractive, and feel worse. Besides, Stiles couldn’t bring himself to lie. “Derek, you aren’t fat, you’re pregnant. Most of the time, you glow and I think your baby bump is adorable. I’m sure that when the baby comes you’ll be back to rock hard abs in no time.”

Derek nodded slowly.

“As for the other thing...” Stiles took a deep breath. “Like I said, I think you’re gorgeous and if you wanted to, we could...you know.”

“Really?” Derek asked quietly. Stiles couldn’t resist rolling his chair over to smooth out Derek’s frown with his hands. When Derek didn’t push him away, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Derek’s jaw. “Oh,” Derek said.

Stiles smiled and kissed him on the mouth. Derek cupped his cheek briefly, then pushed him back. “I don’t--” He stammered. Stiles thought maybe he'd gone too far, but Derek grabbed his hand and looked at him beseechingly. “I don’t want you to do this just because you promised to help me with the baby.”

“Oh god, Derek, no,” Stiles insisted. “That’s not what this is. I wanted you long before the baby, this is...No, Derek.”

“Okay,” Derek said. “Okay.” He nodded firmly and tugged Stiles toward him. Stiles kissed him again, deeper and wetter, while Derek slid his hands around Stiles’ waist. He kept moving forward as he kissed Derek tenderly, until he was out of his chair and hovering over Derek. 

Derek pushed up Stiles’ T-shirt until they had to separate to pull it over his head. As soon as it was gone, Stiles returned to kissing him. He moaned at the feeling of their bare skin touching, and slid his hands up Derek’s sides. He slipped one hand between them and brushed his fingers over Derek’s nipple.

Derek growled, his eyes flashing, then flipped them. He rolled their hips together and attacked Stiles’ mouth, relinquishing tenderness for bruising heat. Stiles let his hands roam over Derek’s skin, under his sweatpants, and linger to appreciate the firm feeling of his ass. Derek sucked at his neck while continuing to rub against him, and Stiles whimpered at the hot friction of his jeans.

“Fuck,” Derek growled a moment later. “I’m a goddamn werewolf. I’m supposed to have superhuman strength, but everything feels too heavy.”

‘It’s okay,” Stiles said. “Here, come lean against the pillows.” He settled with Derek reclining by the headboard and Stiles straddling his lap, settling as close as he could without pressing on Derek’s baby bump. Stiles licked into the heat of Derek’s mouth, hands petting over his shoulders, before tracing his nipple again. Derek gasped under him and Stiles pulled back.

“Sensitive,” Derek panted.

“Good sensitive?” Stiles asked.

“Um, maybe?” Derek said.

“I’ll be gentle,” Stiles promised. He kissed along Derek’s neck, winding down to press the flat of his tongue against Derek’s nipple. A moan rumbled out of Derek’s chest and he bucked his hips up. Stiles smiled and sucked lightly before licking again. He lavished attention on Derek’s chest while he hummed and panted beneath him, hands flexing on Stiles’ hips.

When he'd worked Derek into a frenzy, Stiles backed off. “Can I blow you?” Stiles murmured.

“Please,” Derek gasped. He lifted his hips so that Stiles could slide down his sweatpants and free his reddened dick. Stiles wrapped a hand around the base and mouthed at the tip, relishing the feeling of Derek shuddering. 

Stiles had given blow jobs before, but it’d been a while, and it was different being on a bed in a brightly lit room, with a person you cared about, rather than on your knees in a dark closet, with a stranger you’d met at a party.

He knew Derek and he liked him. He wanted to do this well enough that Derek would be willing to do it again.

The angle was a bit strange with Derek’s growing stomach, but Stiles managed to lick down the shaft and swirl his tongue around the head without too much difficulty. He took as much of Derek into his mouth as he could and moved in sync with his hand to mimic the feeling of taking him in completely. If the jerk of Derek’s hips was anything to go by it worked pretty well.

He stayed there tucked between Derek’s legs, content to take Derek apart.

Derek tugged at his hair. “Stiles, I’m close, so close,” he mumbled. Stiles hummed around Derek’s cock and Derek came with a shout. Stiles swallowed as much as he could, but there was more than he’d expected. He pulled back and tried not to cough, come dripping onto his chin. “Jesus,” Derek breathed, pulling them together and wiping Stiles’ mouth with his thumb before sealing their mouths together.

“Mmmm,” Stiles said, feeling pleased with himself.

Derek rolled them onto their sides and tugged at Stiles’ jeans. Together they managed to open his fly and shove them down far enough for Derek to start jacking him off in slow, lazy strokes. Derek kissed him reverently, relaxed from his own orgasm, and Stiles found himself tumbling gently into orgasm, like a good stretch after a day of sitting still for too long.

They basked in the afterglow, kissing softly, hands gliding over cooling skin.

Their bubble of contentment shattered when Derek suddenly winced. He sat up immediately, looking panicked.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles asked, pushing himself up as well.

“Cramp. Why did I get a cramp? That hasn’t happened in weeks. What the fuck.” Derek was growing more agitated by the second.

“Okay, alright,” Stiles said, tamping down his own panic. “‘I’ll ask the internet, and if we can’t find anything, or it looks like a problem, we will contact Moira, okay?”

“Fuck that, I’m calling her now,” Derek said, grabbing Stiles’ phone off the desk. He bullied the receptionist into getting the midwife on the line and as soon as she was, he blurted out, “I got a cramp and I don’t know why.”

Stiles couldn’t hear Moira’s response but Derek’s ears turned red as he mumbled, “Yes.”

Moira kept talking and Derek responded in grunts and one syllable until he ended the call. 

“So?” Stiles asked nervously.

“Apparently orgasms can stimulate the uterus into thinking it should contract. Just for fun. It happens all the time and it's completely safe.” Derek tossed the phone back onto the desk. Stiles collapsed on the bed in a fit of relieved laughter. “It’s not funny, Stiles,” Derek said, and Stiles just laughed harder. Derek pounced on him and started tickling his sides until he couldn’t breathe.

***

One morning after Derek hit 24 weeks, Stiles and Derek were cuddled in bed. Derek was reading a book recommended by his therapist, and Stiles was trolling his favourite blog for pregnancy-friendly sex positions. So far, this site had given him the best information, not only on ways to fuck Derek, and how he could adapt some of them for when Derek wanted to fuck him.

“Oh,” Derek said suddenly.

“Hmm?” Stiles said.

“I think…” Derek took Stiles’ hand and pressed it to his abdomen. “Can you feel that?”

Stiles held himself completely still and sure enough there were small flutters of movement under his hand. “Holy shit,” Stiles whispered.

“It’s been happening all week but I thought it was just nerves or something,” Derek said.

“We did have a lot of Chipotle this week,” Stiles teased. Derek huffed, but he was still smiling. Stiles nuzzled the spot next to his hand. “I can’t want to meet her.”

“Me neither,” Derek said. They sat together quietly until the baby settled down.

Stiles grinned up at Derek and suggested, “Dolores?”

“Stiles, no,” Derek groaned.

“Helga?”

“What the fuck, Stiles? No!”

***

Stiles drove Scott back home after class. He liked carpooling, because it was a nice opportunity to catch up. He had Scott’s undivided attention.

Halfway to the house, Scott said, carefully, “So, Derek hasn’t been back to Deaton.”

“Nope,” Stiles said, checking his blind spot to turn the corner.

“Where’s he gonna have the baby?” Scott asked.

“Not there,” Stiles said. He sighed when he caught sight of Scott’s confused concern. “Scott, I know that Deaton’s been good to you. Really, he’s helped you out a lot over the years. But in the process, he’s screwed Derek over. Multiple times. With absolutely no remorse.”

Scott opened his mouth to protest, then clicked it shut when Stiles raised his eyebrows at him.

“Derek’s going to have the baby somewhere he feels safe, surrounded by people he trusts,” Stiles said. “Deaton and his clinic do not fall into those categories.”

“Do I?” Scott asked.

Stiles sighed again. “I don’t know, Scott. I wish you did.”

“You want me to join Derek’s pack,” Scott said.

Stiles stopped at a red light and thumped his head back against his seat. “I don’t really understand how you're not already. You spend all your free time with Isaac and every time you find yourself in a supernatural fuck-up, you go running to Derek. It’s been years, Scott. Why are we still fighting about this?”

“You just want me in Derek’s pack because you think he’s hot,” Scott muttered.

Stiles stared at him dumbfounded so shocked he didn’t notice the light change until the car behind him honked. “You know what Scott? I’m not even gonna explain to you why that was a completely asshole thing to say.”

“I didn’t mean--” Scott whined.

“I don’t care what you meant. I care about what you said,” Stiles said. “You think we spend all this time together because I’m after his body? Is that how little you think of me?”

“No,” Scott protested.

“I think you should avoid the pack conversation with Derek until after the baby is born,” Stiles said. “If you’re pissing me off, you’re definitely going to upset him and I don’t want him dealing with extra stress.”

“I’m sorry,” Scott said.

Stiles shrugged. “I know you are. I just wish you’d think about how your actions affect people. We aren’t children anymore.”

“You’re practically a Dad,” Scott said with a sad smile.

It hit Stiles in the chest with a bittersweet pang. He pulled over in front of Scott’s house. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“See you, Stiles,” Scott said grabbing his bag. He hesitated before shutting the door but ended up just saying, “Sorry.”

Stiles thought about their conversation all the way home. He'd been a part of Derek’s pregnancy every step of the way, and they were kind of together now, but the baby wasn’t actually _his._ Did Derek think of him as the baby’s other parent? Or was he just a helping hand? When the baby came and Derek’s hormones settled down would he still be happy to have Stiles as his partner? 

He trudged up into his own house and kicked off his shoes by the door.

“Hey,” Derek said. Stiles was surprised to see him down in the living room when no one else was home. He usually stayed up in Stiles’ room or in the kitchen.

“Hi,” Stiles said. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Derek said. “How was class?” 

“Fine, same as usual.” Stiles said. “Got my mark back for that stupid quiz though. Got an A.”

“That’s great,” Derek said. He sounded stilted and nervous and Stiles wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like he'd heard the conversation with Scott. 

Stiles sat down next to him on the couch. “So...What’s up?”

Derek grabbed a paper off the coffee table and passed it to him. “I got finalization from the county today. The property is mine again and I can give the builder the go ahead for the plan we choose. Start picking out furnishings and stuff…”

“That’s great,” Stiles said. He didn’t understand why Derek wasn’t more excited.

“We haven’t really talked about…” Derek clenched his hands nervously. “Will you come with me?”

Stiles frowned in confusion. “To talk to the builder?”

“No--Well, yes. But--I mean--” Derek growled in frustration. “I want you to move with me. I want you to stay with us.”

Excitement bubbled up in Stiles’ chest and he tried to force it down. “You mean permanently?”

Derek nodded.

Stiles took Derek’s hand, stilling his twitching fingers. “Why?”

Derek frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Why do you want me to move with you? To help with the baby? As a roommate?” Stiles asked. He held his breath and hoped it was the reason he actually wanted.

Derek shook his head, “No, I… That’s… Stiles, I love you.”

The air whooshed out of Stiles’ lungs and he closed his eyes. “Say it again?”

“I love you,” Derek said forcefully. “I want to build a house together so we can be together. You, me, and Baby.”

“And we can raise her together?” Stiles asked. “You and me?”

Derek nuzzled into Stiles’ neck. “I know now, I could do it on my own, but I’d rather it be with you.”

Stiles opened his eyes and wrapped his arms around Derek. “I love you, too,” he said. “Of course I’ll come with you. What would I do without you and my girl?”

Derek sagged in relief and smiled against Stiles’ throat. They stayed cuddled on the couch until Stiles got too jittery with excitement, then they went upstairs to bicker about faucets and doorknobs.

***

As Derek entered his third trimester, it became harder and harder for him to go out in public. He still wore an oversized coat whenever he ventured outdoors. The weather was getting colder, but that wasn’t much help if he wanted to go inside, and he didn’t want to risk anyone in Beacon Hills seeing the bump. They started doing most of their shopping online or driving a couple of hours away.

Stiles was worried that the lack of outside contact would push Derek from antisocial into full-fledged hermit. When Moira suggested they attend a supernatural-friendly expectant parent get together, he leaped at the chance.

Several years ago, one of Moira’s clients expressed the desire to meet with other moms and exchange tips, commiserate about challenges, and share funny stories. Unfortunately, she was a water nymph, and her blue skin made it a bit challenging to walk into the local community center. She’d tried online forums, like Stiles frequented, but it wasn’t the same and it was harder to find recommendations that were specific to non-human mothers.

With Moira’s help, the nymph was able to form a group that welcomed creatures of all kinds. Derek being a pregnant male wouldn’t really matter in a group that included a couple who were both half tree, and a woman who hatched her children.

Stiles grabbed his bag from the backseat and dragged Derek up to the front door. Derek wasn’t resisting, exactly, but he also wasn’t making things easier. Stiles knocked briskly and squeezed Derek’s hand while waiting for it to open.

The door was answered quickly by a statuesque brunette with a mid-sized baby bump. “Hi! You must be Stiles and Derek. I’m Polly, it’s so nice to have you. Come on in.”

According to Moira, this month’s host, Polly, was half elf. She looked completely normal to Stiles until the door shut and she turned to lead them into the house, he noticed that her ears were distinctively pointed.

“Kitchen and food are in here, help yourself to whatever strikes your fancy. Anyone who can see their feet should use the washroom that’s upstairs, everyone else can use the powder room down here.”

They reached the living room where most of the guests were gathered and the doorbell went off.

“I have to get that, sorry,” Polly said. “Fresh blood, everybody,” she called to the room at large before returning down the hallway.

Various greetings were called out and Stiles waved awkwardly, taking in the room. Couples of all kinds were scattered on sofas, chairs, and pillows. More adults and a group of children were outside, beyond the patio door.

There were two women in the corner who looked far too excited by their presence. A large burly man said, “Calm down, you two, she didn’t mean that literally.” The women subsided and the big man winked at Stiles and Derek, “Vampires. Always looking for the next meal.”

“Aren’t we all,” drawled a woman across the room. Even while extremely pregnant, she was the embodiment of sex, and the man behind her was just as magnetically attractive.

Derek tugged Stiles closer to him and issued a low growl.

“Not for sharing, I see,” said the incubus. “Good to know.”

“Looks like we’re running out of chairs, go ahead and take mine.” said the burly man, standing up to gesturing to Derek. “I’m George, by the way. This is my wife, Maggie.”

“Pleased to meet you,” said the chubby redhead next to him. She was vaguely green and Stiles didn’t think it was from morning sickness.

“I’m Stiles, this is Derek.” Stiles pushed Derek toward the vacated chair and set his bag down next to him. “Do you want any food?” he asked.

Derek shook his head and pulled Stiles against his side.

“George, introduce them to the others,” Maggie said. George quickly went through the room, introducing Nieve the selkie, Gloria the fairy. Elmira was a mermaid and Melanie was a gorgon, which explained the sunglasses and head scarf she was rocking. The vampires were Velma and Andrea. The supermodel couple went by Lila and Kyle.

“Maggie and I are ogres,” George finished with. 

Polly popped back in with another couple in her wake. The man focused on Derek immediately and stiffened.

“Tom,” George greeted. “How ya doing? Gracie, give us a hug.” The woman skirted around Derek and Stiles to accept his embrace. “Tom and Grace are werewolves.”

‘Oh awesome,” said Stiles. “Derek is—“

“An alpha,” Tom said.

“Oh, isn’t that swell?” George said.

“And what are you, Stiles?” Maggie asked.

“Oh, I’m not anything. Pack adjacent, I guess,” Stiles said, waving his hand.

“Pack,” Derek said firmly. Stiles smiled down at him.

George looked around. “Grace, let me find you a chair.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Grace said. “I can take the floor.” Melanie offered her a pillow and she and Tom settled next to the couch.

“Most of the men folk have gone outside, if you want to join them, Stiles,” Polly said.

Stiles didn’t even manage to open his mouth in response before Derek tightened his grip. “Here’s good,” Stiles squeaked.

“Is this your first?” Maggie asked, glancing fondly at Derek’s bump.

“Yeah, you?” Stiles responded, since Derek didn’t seem inclined to.

“Third,” Maggie said, patting her rounded tummy. “Our other two are outside.”

The conversation flowed from there. Due dates and sleep schedules were discussed at length. When the conversation moved to strollers, Derek loosened his grip enough for Stiles to sit on the floor at his feet.

Gloria tapped his thigh with a bare foot. “You bought a diaper bag yet?” Stiles shook his head. “Get a sturdy backpack. I got one when my first was six months, and it was so much better. The regular bags are all well and good until you have to carry the baby, the bag, your purse and a stuffed octopus.”

Stiles laughed. “I hadn’t thought of that. Thanks.” He rummaged through his bag and pulled out an Iron Man notebook and pen. “Any particular brands you’d suggest?”

Gloria giggled. “Wow, hun, you mean business.”

“We’re kinda flying by the seat of our pants. I’ve never spent much time with babies, so I figure it can’t hurt to get as much advice as possible while we’re here,” Stiles said.

“If you’re open to advice,” Velma said. “Don’t buy one of those stupid Sophie giraffes.”

A few other parents groaned and Stiles raised an eyebrow. “What is that?”

Andrea rolled her eyes, “It’s a teething toy, that despite what the mommy blogs say, you can live without.”

Stiles nodded and picked up his pen. “No Sophie Giraffe.”

“Doggie pee pads,” Maggie said. “Pee just rolls off those changing pads. Use a pee pad and throw it out if it gets dirty.”

“Is that racist, do you think?” Derek said.

The whole room went silent for a second.

Stiles cackled. “Says the guy who ordered organic chew toys last week.”

The tension in the room fled on the tails of a few nervous giggles and Grace said cautiously, “Really?”

“Werewolf teeth,” Derek said. “Once they start coming in, they’ll get sharp fast. Dog toys are the same as baby teething toys, they’ll just last longer.”

She tentatively started asking him about which ones were the best and Stiles could feel Derek relaxing a bit more behind him.

Eventually, Derek said, “Your alpha will be able to help with the teething too.”

Tom stiffened immediately. Grace’s expression grew shuttered, and she said, “We don’t have an alpha anymore.”

Stiles felt Derek tense behind him, so he reached into his bag and pulled out a container and popped the lid off. “Strawberry?” he asked, holding it above his head. Derek’s cravings had recently moved on from strawberry popsicles to the actual fruit. Just the smell of them was enough to drive him crazy. Derek relaxed again and took the container from Stiles.

Maggie, bless her, asked if anyone had found relief from aching feet. The general consensus involved cabbage leaves, but Stiles didn’t pay too much attention since Derek’s swelling was minimal and if it flared too much, a pain pull from one of the pack would soothe him.

Stiles loved all the different ways pregnancy changed people. Women like Maggie and Elmira gained weight all over, whereas for Derek and Polly, no one could tell they were pregnant if they looked from behind. The only change in Derek’s physical appearance was his unmistakable, steadily growing midriff.

They stayed for the whole afternoon. Derek had to pee three times, but so did the other mothers, so for once, he wasn’t too grumpy about it. Stiles used his absence as an opportunity to raid the food supply, marveling at the fresh taste of the fruit, considering nothing was in season.

By the time the gathering wound to an end, Stiles had several new phone numbers and Facebook friends, and a tentative coffee date with Maggie. Derek stopped him from heading to the door and pulled him over to Grace and Tom instead.

The four of them stood there awkwardly for a second and until Derek said, “You should give Stiles your number.”

“Why?” Tom asked. Grace elbowed him in the ribs.

Derek narrowed his eyes at him. “Because having a pack is important. I don’t know if you’d fit well with ours and I’m not in a position to decide right now, but Stiles is good at fitting people together. He can help you find somewhere you’ll do well with.”

Grace burst into tears and flung her arms around Derek. “Really?”

“Stop leaking on me, I have more than enough hormones of my own to deal with, I don’t need yours too,” Derek said, but he returned the hug, rubbing a hand over her back.

Stiles grinned from ear to ear as he programmed Tom’s number into his phone. This outing was exactly what he’d wanted for Derek.

*** 

“No, Stiles, I don’t like that one either,” Derek grumbled.

“Derek, you have to pick something. I promised Erica I’d finish the registry by Friday,” Stiles said. Derek was nearing 30 weeks and between the baby shower and Christmas fast approaching, everyone wanted to sort out gifts.

“What is even the point of the bassinet?” Derek whined. “We’ll probably end up attaching the crib to the bed anyway.”

“She’ll be too small for the crib,” Stiles insisted for the hundredth time. “We need a bassinet so she’ll be nearby for feedings but still safe.”

“I just want her near me,” Derek said, rubbing circles over his stomach.

“Huh,” the Sheriff said, leaning in the doorway. The Sheriff held up a finger to indicate they should wait and walked down the hall. 

Stiles shrugged. “Let’s come back to that. We can look at highchairs again. I still like the frog one best.”

“The eyes are creepy, we're not getting the frog, maybe the elephant.”

They’d confirmed the elephant high chair and a matching playpen when the Sheriff came back in, puffing as he hefted a large box. “How about this?” He asked, then he opened up the box and started pulling out pieces of the contraption.

“What is it?” Stiles asked.

“It’s your bassinet, Your mother got so much use out of this. See, the side dips so you can push it down to cuddle or feed the baby,” he explained, demonstrating with the flexible side. “We’ll attach it to the bed and she’ll be right there, you barely have to reach out.”

Derek reached out tentatively to feel the fabric. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not. We always meant to get more use out of it, but…” He ran a hand over the soft fabric sadly then shook off the sad memory. “Well, sometimes you end up on a different road. Anyway, Claudia had a C-section, so it was a bit hard to move around. I suppose you’ll heal much faster, but it’ll still come in handy to have the baby nearby. I’ll put it together on my next day off. We can attach it to the bed closer to your due date.”

“How’s that sound, babe?” Stiles asked. He thought the bassinet was perfect, but Derek was picky.

“It’s really nice,” Derek said. He tapped his fingers against the bed. “Can you...will it be attached to this bed?” he said hesitantly.

The Sheriff frowned. “Well, I doubt you’ll be going back to Stiles’ old bed. Where else would it go?”

“I wasn’t sure if…” Derek huffed. “Babies are loud and messy and you didn’t really sign up for that.”

Stiles squirmed in his chair as realization dawned on his father's face. They hadn’t actually talked about where Derek and the baby would stay while the house was being built. 

The Sheriff cleared his throat. “If you...uh. If you want, you can take it back to your loft or wherever, but I’d hoped you’d spend the first few months here. Have an extra pair of hands and all.”

Derek smiled. “Werewolf babies do best surrounded by as much family as possible.”

“You up for being a Grandpa, Dad?” Stiles asked teasingly. 

“Don’t you joke, Stiles,” the Sheriff said, pointing a scolding finger. “That’s a title of honour.”

“I can’t imagine anyone I’d rather have it,” Derek said quietly.

The Sheriff looked at him and huffed. “Hell, Derek, now there’s something in my eye.” He hugged Derek around the shoulders and left the room muttering about attic dust. 

***

Stiles got home from class and flopped down on his bed. “Hey, babe.”

Derek grunted in response and didn’t look away from Stiles’ computer.

“What’s up? Do anything fun while I was gone?” Stiles asked. Derek jerked a shoulder in a dismissive shrug. “Okay...Well, when you feel like acknowledging my existence, let me know.” He stretched out to grab a textbook off the floor and started reading about Beowulf and Grendel.

“I can’t remember the colour of his eyes.” 

Stiles started at Derek’s sudden statement after such a long silence. “What?”

“ _Him,_ ” Derek said. Stiles sat up to see what Derek had on the screen. He was scrolling frantically through the faces of small children. “I don’t remember what colour of eyes he had. I tried and I don’t know...I’m not sure I ever looked, but now I don’t know.”

“Okay,” Stiles was completely at a loss. He had no idea what had prompted Derek’s freak out, or how to handle it.

Derek’s hand finally stilled, mouse hovering over a dark haired girl with blue eyes. “What if she has his eyes?”

“She won’t,” Stiles said firmly.

Derek growled. “You don’t know that. I don’t know what the colour was, so I don’t even know if they were recessive.”

“Okay,” Stiles said. “Well, let’s break it down. Your eyes are blue and green--”

“Stiles!”

“So, if her eyes are either of those, then they must come from you,” Stiles said.

“My eyes aren’t blue _and_ green, Stiles,” Derek said, rolling said eyes.

“Um, excuse me. I think that I look at them more often than you do,” Stiles said, haughtily. “Call them blue, or hazel, or fluorescent aqua, but your eyes have blue and green on lock.”

“That’s not how it works,” Derek grumbled.

“So, then, that leaves brown, right?” Stiles continued. “I have brown eyes. If she has those, she’ll have gotten them from me.”

“Stiles.” Derek looked completely wrecked, his cheeks flushed while the rest of his face was pale, his bottom lip struggling to heal where he’d bitten it raw.

“You said we could raise her together,” Stiles said softly. “So, she’s ours. You and me, Der. I don’t care if her eyes are purple and her hair is indigo, she’s our little girl.”

Derek abandoned the computer, pushing Stiles down on the bed so he could bury his face in Stiles’ neck. “Your eyes are amber,” he mumbled.

Stiles snorted. “Okay, Mr. Cosmic-Universe-for-Irises.”

Derek nipped at his neck in retaliation, but didn’t respond right away. “Your dad’s eyes are blue.”

“Mmhmm,” Stiles said. “And my mom’s were brown.”

“So we’re my mom’s,” Derek said.

“How about your dad?” Stiles asked.

“His were like mine,” Derek said. “He said that’s why we could always see eye to eye.”

Stiles smiled at the mental image of little boy Derek, snuggled up to his father, finding the features they shared. “Maybe, she’ll have Erica’s nose, and Isaac’s cheekbones.”

“Stiles,” Derek grumped, but Stiles could hear the hint of a smile in his voice.

“What about Boyd’s full lips?” Stiles said, sliding a hand over Derek’s abdomen, hoping he would catch Baby awake and moving.

Derek moved his hand over to where she was pressing and wiggling. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed, cheerfully.

“I love you,” Derek said, much softer.

“Me, too.”

***

Stiles pulled up in front of his house after class and was surprised to see Scott standing in their doorway. His confusion only grew as he approached and realized Scott was armed with a screwdriver and WD-40.

“Hey, buddy, what’s up?” Stiles asked carefully.

“Hey, bro. I’m fixing your door.”

“Oh,” Stiles said. He waited a minute for Scott to elaborate, then asked, “Did you break it?”

“Huh?” Scott said. “No, I’m fixing the squeak.”

“The door squeaks?”

“Yeah, I didn’t notice it until after I was turned. I thought since Derek is staying here, it’d be nice for him if the door didn’t squeak all the time. Less stressful.” He nodded to himself before using the spray can, then wiggling the door.

“Okay,” Stiles said slowly. “Could I maybe come inside?”

“Oh right,” Scott said, as he moved out of the way.

Stiles found Derek on the couch, watching Scott suspiciously. “I didn’t know the door was stressing you out?”

Derek hummed noncommittally then mouthed, _It wasn’t._

“Huh,” Stiles said again. “So Scott. Dude. What brought this on?”

“I was thinking about what you said about not causing Derek undue stress, and I thought it would be good if I could do something to help,” Scott said. “I couldn’t think of anything, and then the other day my mom yelled at me for letting the screen door bang shut, and I remembered your squeaky door.” Scott smiled at him expectantly.

“Oh. Thanks, man,” Stiles said. He kicked off his shoes and flopped next to Derek on the couch. “How are you doing?”

“Good,” Derek said, rubbing his hand over Stiles’ neck to get rid of the lingering smell of college.

“How’s baby girl?”

“She’s good too,” Derek said. “Jumpy today.”

Stiles smiled. He wanted to put his head on Derek’s stomach and see if he could get the baby to move around again by talking but he felt self-conscious with Scott behind them. He glanced over his shoulder and Scott was swinging the door back and forth again with a look of complete concentration on his face.

Scott looked over at Derek. “I can’t hear it anymore, can you?”

“It's good,” Derek said. Scott beamed in response.

“Cool,” Stiles said. “Thanks again, Scott. Are you staying for dinner?”

Scott pocketed his screwdriver. “Nah, I’m meeting up with Isaac. I should probably head out now. See you tomorrow?” 

“Bright and early.” Stupid 8 am classes.

“Thanks, Scott,” Derek said.

“You're welcome,” Scott said. He said goodbye one last time to Stiles, Derek, then the baby, then left. Stiles watched Derek listen for the sound of Scott’s bike to fade.

When Derek gave the okay, Stiles let out the breath he was holding in a _woosh._ “What the hell was that?”

“I have no idea. He just showed up and started attacking the door. Said something about the stress thing, and how he wants me to feel ‘safe’ around him,” Derek said. “What did you talk about that made him think I’m stressed out?”

Stiles recounted his conversation with Scott and shrugged. “I kinda forgot about it, honestly. That was weeks ago.”

Derek sighed. “You know what? I think you were right about the stress thing. I don’t want to think about Scott’s relationship with the pack right now. It’s too complicated.”

Stiles nodded. “Well, at least the squeak is fixed.”

Derek grimaced. “Not so much. It's fine for betas, but I can still hear it. It never bothered me anyway.”

Stiles laughed until Derek pushed him off the couch.

***

Stiles woke up slowly. He stretched and snuggled back into the pillow. Something was different and it took his brain a minute to process what it was. Derek was not wrapped around him like he had been for most of the pregnancy. Stiles wiggled around and felt Derek behind him but not touching him. He rolled over quickly and Derek was just lying on his side, staring at Stiles.

“Morning,” Stiles mumbled. Derek just blinked. “Sleep okay?” Derek shrugged. Stiles started to worry. Derek was usually extremely clingy in the mornings. It was some of their best snuggle time. “Has something happened?”

“No,” Derek said quickly. Before Stiles could respond, Derek tensed.

“Derek?” Stiles asked, scrambling to sit up.

Derek relaxed again. “I’m fine.”

“Holy shit, was that a contraction? Are you in labour? Why didn’t you wake me up?” Stiles said.

“I am not in labour,” Derek growled. “I’m not due for another two weeks. And if I was in labour, I still wouldn’t have woken you up because babies don’t actually come that fast. Which you know.”

Stiles rubbed his eyes, trying to chase away the last vestiges of sleep. “Okay, that second part was fair, but are you sure that wasn’t a contraction?”

“Yes,” Derek said forcefully.

Stiles looked at him dubiously. Derek just glared in return so he shrugged and grabbed his phone off the bedside table. It took a few minutes of mindlessly scrolling through facebook before he connected the dots. “Derek, do you happen to know the date?”

“Fuck you, Stiles, you know exactly what day it is,” Derek said vehemently.

Stiles looked at him with alarm. “Derek, that was not very loving.” He turned his phone and waved it to show the happy little heart surrounding the date. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Derek snarled, “No.”

Stiles suppressed a giggle. “Derek, lots of babies are born on Valentine’s.”

“Well, mine won’t be, because I’m not in labour,” Derek said.

“Mmhmm,” Stiles said. He went back to his phone, messing around until twenty minutes later, Derek stiffened. Stiles counted in his head and 30 seconds later, Derek relaxed again. Stiles set a timer on his phone, then asked, as casually as possible, “Was that by chance a--”

“No,” Derek grunted.

“I see,” Stiles said. He opened a new message to his dad.

“What are you doing?” Derek said. “It wasn’t a contraction.”

“Okay,” Stiles said. He sent his dad, _Derek is not in labour._

The Sheriff responded with, _???_

Stiles sent back a winking emoji. “Have you had any other not contractions?” Stiles asked.

Derek glared at him for a minute then rolled his eyes. “A few.”

“Awesome,” Stiles said. He tossed his phone onto his bedside table and hopped out of bed. “Do you want to have a shower with me?”

Derek stared at the bathroom longingly. “Just a shower?”

“Yep,” Stiles said. Derek nodded and followed Stiles into the bathroom. He had another contraction (“No, I didn’t Stiles.”) while they showered, so he went straight back to bed, barely toweling off before he burrowed back beneath the sheets.

Stiles got dressed slowly and went down to grab breakfast. He brought some food up to Derek, who ate, then returned to his immobile state.

“You want to watch a movie, or read, or something?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded and they made it all the way through _Cinderella_ and halfway through _Sleeping Beauty_ before Derek relented.

“Maybe we could call Moira,” Derek said begrudgingly.

“Sure.” Stiles pulled up Moira’s number and dialed. “Do you want to talk to her?” Derek shook his head and hugged his pillow closer. 

Moira answered with a cheerful hello. “Derek wants you to know that he is not in labour because it’s Valentine’s day, but if he was, he would be having contractions at regular intervals.”

Moira chuckled. “I see. And is Derek dilated at all?”

Stiles looked down and Derek nodded. Stiles raised his eyebrows and Derek rolled his eyes. “Apparently, yes.”

“Has his water broken?”

Stiles gave Derek another inquiring look but this time Derek looked uncertain and shrugged. “We’re not really sure,” Stiles said.

“How is he handling the pain?” Moira asked.

“Pretty mellow so far,” Stiles said, running his hand over Derek’s hair.

“Well then, if Derek _was_ in labour, I would say he should call me again when his contractions start coming closer together or his water breaks. I’ll check in with you soon either way.”

“Thanks,” Stiles said, and they said their goodbyes. “Do you think I could give the pack a heads up now?”

Derek sighed. “I want them here, but I don’t want to have to socialize.”

“That’s fine,” Stiles said. “I’ll let them know and see if anyone’s free. You can pretend they aren’t even here if it helps.”

“Okay,” Derek said. He abandoned his pillow in favour of Stiles’ lap. Stiles sent out a group text letting everyone know the situation.

Erica came over immediately with three different casseroles. Isaac and Boyd weren’t far behind. Derek smiled at them, but he didn’t want anyone but Stiles on the bed or touching him. They stole the cushions off the couch and piled together in the corner. Everyone chattered excitedly while Derek focused on staying relaxed and rested. The Sheriff and Melissa both got off their night shifts and came straight to the house. They offered to hang around but Derek insisted they both get some rest.

It was hours before Derek’s labour was active enough to warrant Moira and her daughter Emily coming over. Derek took a trip to the washroom while Stiles and Erica switched the sheets on the bed to include an absorbent pad or two with a waterproof layer.

Moira was happy with Derek’s progress, and for the most part, let him continue his self-induced zone out. Melissa and the Sheriff woke up and joined the fray, Boyd took a nap, and Isaac ordered pizza for everyone.

At ten o’clock Erica said, “What the fuck, Derek, you can’t be in labour forever.”

“Not forever,” Derek said. Stiles rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue. It wasn’t like Derek could actually control when the baby came, so what harm would it do to let him think he was in charge?

At half past eleven, Derek instructed all non-essential people to wait downstairs.

At 12:06AM, Gabriella Natalia Stilinski-Hale made her debut. She weighed 6 lbs 3 oz, had a cap of dark brown hair and scowled at the world like it had caused her personal affront.

Stiles didn’t even care that he cried when he held her for the first time. He signed the official adoption papers they'd prepared and settled on the bed with Derek to introduce their daughter to their pack.

Derek smirked when he filled out February 15th on her birth certificate.

***

_Epilogue_

Stiles’ jaw cracked with the force of his yawn as he stumbled into the kitchen. He went straight for the coffee maker, and blessed Derek for putting a pot on while he poured some into the mug with Gabriella’s handprints on it.

He shuffled over to the breakfast nook and gave her a sloppy kiss on the head before plopping into his seat. “Morning, Gabby Girl.”

“Good morning, Daddy,” she said. She looked up from her colouring and smiled brightly at him. Early mornings made Stiles sentimental, and he took a moment to get lost in her eyes. Even at two, they already looked so much like Derek’s, a kaleidoscope of blue, green, grey, and gold. Stiles’ whole world was in those eyes.

“Wait,” Stiles said, looking around the kitchen. “Where’s Daddy?”

“Puking,” Gabriella said, going back to her colouring.

“What?” Stiles jumped up from his seat, coffee sloshing over the rim of his mug.

“I’m fine,” Derek called out. He came into the kitchen, looking strung out and vaguely green in the gills. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Did you just hurl?” Stiles asked.  
“Yeah, but it was--” Derek pressed a hand to his mouth, and took a deep breath through his nose. “Fine. It’s done.”

“But why? Are you sick? Bewitched? Did I undercook the chicken last night?” Stiles asked, rapid fire, as he pressed a hand to Derek’s forehead, feeling for a fever.

“Please don’t talk about the chicken,” Derek said. He didn’t feel any warmer than usual, but he pressed into the touch, so Stiles left his hand there for a moment before moving it to Derek’s neck. “It’s none of those things. I’m perfectly fine.”

“You’re not fine if you’re randomly tossing your cookies all of a sudden,” Stiles insisted.

“Cookies?” Gabby asked.

“Later, love,” Stiles said. He hadn’t planned on baking today, but Gabriella was stubborn about some things. Now that the idea was in her head, he’d never get rid of it. 

“It’s not really sudden,” Derek said. “It's happened a few times now.”

“What? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Derek hitched a shoulder. “I wanted to be sure.”

“Sure that you’re dying?” Stiles hissed.

Derek rolled his eyes, looking pointedly at Gabby. They both knew she was a horrible eavesdropper, but Stiles was still getting used to her understanding what he was saying. 

“You remember how we said we’d start trying?”

Stiles frowned for a second, then clued in. “Oh. Oh! You mean...That fast?”

“Uh huh,” Derek said. He slid his arms around Stiles waist. “Wanna be my pregnancy buddy again?”

“God, yes.” Stiles blamed his early morning sentimentality for the tears threatening to spill over. He looked into Derek’s eyes and smiled. Their world was about to get bigger.


End file.
